Chapter 102: The Cannon Fodder in a Dogblood Novel (102)
The car slowly stopped at the entrance of the Liuli Shuian complex.
Qin Yizhou gazed at Shen Tangqing’s sleeping face for a moment before speaking softly, “Shen Tangqing, we’re here.”
Shen Tangqing’s eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.
His gaze still held the daze of someone who had just woken up, taking a few seconds to fully come to his senses.
His gaze fell on the familiar complex outside the car window. He blinked, then said in a low voice, “Sorry, I accidentally fell asleep.”
With that, he glanced at Qin Yizhou. “Mr. Qin, thank you for today.”
He prepared to open the door and get out, but Qin Yizhou stopped him.
“Which building do you live in? I’ll take you to the entrance so you can walk less.”
Qin Yizhou’s usually cold eyes softened slightly as he looked at Shen Tangqing.
“Sleeping in a car is never as good as a bed. That’s why I took the liberty of waking you…”
Of course, what Qin Yizhou didn’t say was that, seeing Shen Tangqing covered in blood, he figured Shen Tangqing would want to change into clean clothes as soon as possible.
Shen Tangqing gave the building number.
The driver then drove into the complex.
Only after they came to a steady stop did Shen Tangqing thank Qin Yizhou again.
“Don’t mention it. If you need help with anything, you can call me anytime.”
He knew that Shen Tangqing wouldn’t have a phone after being imprisoned by Li Qiulan.
He reached out to the car’s center console, took out a gold-embossed business card, and handed it to Shen Tangqing.
Shen Tangqing took the card and murmured another thank you.
Qin Yizhou didn’t get out of the car.
He sat there, watching Shen Tangqing’s figure disappear into the depths of the hallway, before slowly withdrawing his gaze. The tenderness in his eyes was gradually replaced by gloom.
Returning to the apartment he hadn’t seen in a long time, Shen Tangqing stood in the foyer, his heart a mess of emotions.
He didn’t even grab pajamas. After removing the blood-stained coat, he went straight to the bathroom.
Steam billowed in the room.
Shen Tangqing’s wet black hair was as dark as ink, making his face appear even more snow-white.
He stood quietly under the showerhead, letting the warm water wash over his body again and again.
After an unknown amount of time, the pitter-patter of water in the bathroom finally stopped.
He stood before the bathroom mirror, numbing his mind as he dried his hair.
The misty vapor gradually dissipated, and the reflection in the mirror became clear.
Shen Tangqing’s hand holding the hairdryer suddenly stopped.
He stared at himself in the mirror.
After a long time, he set the hairdryer down on the vanity.
He slowly raised his hand, his fingertips gently touching the stinging red mark on his collarbone.
The next second, as if triggered by something, he suddenly began to rub it forcefully.
His fair skin turned red from the friction, but he seemed unable to feel the pain, wanting only to completely erase that mark from his skin.
But after two minutes, his movements abruptly stopped.
He slowly withdrew his hand, staring expressionlessly at the red mark that remained clearly visible in the mirror.
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
After a long silence, he whispered two words, “Bad person.”
After leaving the bathroom, Shen Tangqing dragged his exhausted body to change into clean sheets and duvet covers before burying himself in the soft bedding.
This sleep was extremely restless for Shen Tangqing.
He had a rare dream.
In a dim basement, the air was thick with the smell of damp mold and the metallic tang of rust.
In a corner not far away, a small figure was curled up.
The person had their back to him, their shoulders twitching slightly as if sobbing quietly.
Shen Tangqing’s heart tightened for some reason, and he slowly walked toward the person.
He wanted to see the person’s face clearly, but no matter how close he got, the person seemed not to notice, maintaining their curled position.
Shen Tangqing stopped a few steps away and called out softly,
But the other party gave no reaction.
Just as he hesitated to reach out and pat the person’s shoulder, the small figure seemed to sense something and slowly turned their head.
Shen Tangqing’s breath caught—it was Li Qiulan.
No, to be precise, it was Li Qiulan as a child.
Shen Tangqing recognized him instantly.
The small face was stained with dirt and tears, eyes swollen like walnuts, lips pressed into a pale line,
And his gaze was full of despair and emptiness.
He stared blankly ahead; clearly, he couldn’t see Shen Tangqing at all.
“It hurts…” he murmured to himself, his voice thick with nasal congestion.
“It hurts so much…”
Shen Tangqing’s gaze fell on the boy’s arms.
Both arms were covered in a dense thicket of needle marks, bruised in shades of blue and purple.
It was a gruesome sight.
He instinctively reached out to touch them, only to find his hand passing straight through little Li Qiulan’s arm…
He couldn’t touch anything.
At that moment, the iron door of the basement creaked open and heavy footsteps approached.
Three men in black trench coats walked in.
One of the men carried a pitch-black wooden bucket.
When he looked at the little Li Qiulan in the corner, his eyes were full of malicious playfulness.
“Big brother, do you think this stuff really works?” one of the shorter men asked in a low voice.
“How the hell should I know?” The man called “big brother” spat.
“The doctor said just let those things suck enough blood; we don’t need to worry about the rest.”
“Haven’t we already drawn so many vials of blood? Isn’t that enough?”
“Who knows? But this brat is pathetic enough, being used as a test subject by his own mother. If she’d just handed over the data, the kid wouldn’t have to suffer like this…”
“There are plenty of heartless people in the world. Stop your damn yapping… get to work!”
“…”
Shen Tangqing was a bit confused by what he was hearing, but seeing the situation, he knew these men were no good.
He instinctively looked toward the wooden bucket—
His pupils suddenly dilated—
…
One man stepped forward, picking up little Li Qiulan like a chick and pinning him to a nearby wooden stool.
Another man brought the bucket and placed it at his feet, his tone sinister.
“Kid, don’t blame us for being heartless. If you want to blame someone, blame that heartless mother of yours, alright?”
Little Li Qiulan trembled violently. His struggling was useless; instead, it earned him a harsh slap from the man.
“Behave.”
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“No… please no…” His voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, tears streaming down his face—
Unfortunately, his pleas were in vain.
One man held his shoulders while the other reached to grab his ankles, clearly intending to force his legs into the bucket.
Shen Tangqing’s eyes nearly split with rage as he tried to rush forward to stop them.
“Stop it—”
The next second,
Shen Tangqing bolted upright in bed, cold sweat soaking his pajamas.
He gasped for air, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst through his chest.
He didn’t know why he had this dream.
Could it be that because he was scared by Li Qiulan tonight, his subconscious had fabricated a tragic childhood for him in the dream?
Outside the window, dawn hadn’t yet broken. The room was pitch black, with only a sliver of pale light from the gap in the curtains falling on the floor.
He sat in the darkness in silence, all traces of sleepiness gone, feeling a heavy tightness in his chest.
After a few minutes, Shen Tangqing fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp.
The warm yellow light dispersed some of the darkness.
He got up and walked to the desk, opened a drawer, and took out an unopened pack of cigarettes.
He pulled one out and lit it.
The flame of the lighter illuminated his pale face.
He walked to the balcony, leaning against the cold railing, and took a slow drag.
Amidst the swirling smoke, his eyes were filled with exhaustion.
He gazed into the distance, his mind filled with Li Qiulan’s face.
In that basement, those desperate, empty eyes overlapped eerily with the pained and hopeless gaze Li Qiulan had given him tonight.
They seemed to have taken root in his mind; he didn’t want to think about them, yet he couldn’t push them away.
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