The headband Ke Xun wore had attached earphones. Whenever that excruciating electric current surged through his body, countless cold voices would blare from the earphones, their mocking, disgusting, and insulting tones murmuring incessantly in his ear:
"Dead homosexual, pervert, disgusting, worse than a pig or a dog, beast, filthy, vulgar, shameless, scum, dead homosexual, dirty thing, dead homosexual, may you die a horrible death, go to hell, be boiled in oil, burn you to death, dead homosexual, what's the point of living, inhuman beast, dead homosexual, dead homosexual, dead homosexual..."
The horror of these words surpassed even the most brutal axe blows.
Destroying the body was merely painful; destroying the spirit and faith was an inhuman torture of the soul.
Surrounded by these cold, disgusting voices, all human dignity and beliefs were trampled to dust. You increasingly believed that you were truly an animal, an utterly filthy thing, unworthy of being human, unworthy of dignity, despised and humiliated by everything in the world.
If this scorn and humiliation were tangible, Ke Xun would probably be covered in phlegm and excrement, as if he had been stripped naked and thrown into the filthiest cesspool, surrounded by righteous people who humiliated him with their expressions and gazes.
They mocked him, pinching their noses and looking at him with contempt as if he were a pile of filth. They said, "You dead homosexual, do you know how to repent?"
Ke Xun raised his head from the filth, a half-smirk playing on his lips: "To hell with repentance! Whether I live or die, I'm gay. Even in hell, I'm still gay. Heaven and earth may change, but I will never change!"
The data on the screen was jumping wildly, and the wires on Ke Xun's body were being electrocuted. His body convulsed violently with each shock of the current, almost breaking all his bones.
Mu Yiran looked at Ke Xun, soaked in sweat as if he had been pulled out of water, and saw his fingers gripping the armrest of the seat tightly. He reached out and held his hand tightly.
Number 282 on the screen remained numbly beside the display. Mu Yiran searched every corner and detail he could find, but still couldn't locate the signature.
Several gray-white figures, carrying surgical instruments, slowly surrounded Zhu Haowen. They communicated amongst themselves, as if performing a mundane task.
Their voices were indistinct; even at close range, it was impossible to discern what they were saying.
Mu Yiran's eyelashes suddenly fluttered. His finger, holding the phone, moved slightly, tapping the record button. Then, facing the microphone, he spoke in a deep voice: "Number 282, where is Kang Lai's signature?"
He then pressed stop, and then play.
A string of indistinct language, reminiscent of his own voice, came from the phone's speaker.
He couldn't understand what it said, but Number 282 on the screen understood.
Number 282's dry, grayish lips moved, uttering a low, indistinct sound. Mu Yiran kept pressing the record button, and when it finished speaking, he pressed play.
"I am Kang Lai... You want an autograph... What do you want?" Number 282's voice from the speaker was gentle yet desolate.
"We need your autograph to leave here," Mu Yiran said.
"Leave here... Leave here..." Number 282, Kang Lai, his voice seemed filled with melancholy and sorrow, "Yes... He should leave here, he should leave here too... It's a pity, a pity... I couldn't take him with me..."
Mu Yiran felt Ke Xun's hand, which he was holding, twitch violently again from the electric shock, as if even his bones had shrunk into a ball. He couldn't help but ask in a deep voice, "Kang Lai, where is your autograph?"
"I... can... write it for you now..." Kang Lai said gently.
He extended his withered, grayish fingers and touched Mu Yiran's chest.
"Write it for him first." Mu Yiran pointed to Ke Xun beside him.
"I…I'm not in a hurry…" Ke Xun's extremely weak voice trembled uncontrollably, "Hao…Haowen…I'm in a hurry…"
The surgical needle had already pierced Zhu Haowen's eye socket.
"Please help." Mu Yiran pointed to Zhu Haowen.
Kang Lai turned around and gently walked towards Zhu Haowen. His finger touched Zhu Haowen's chest and wrote the two characters "Kang Lai" on his body.
A faint light shone around Zhu Haowen, and a picture frame vaguely appeared in the light. Zhu Haowen's body disappeared into the picture frame in this light.
Kang Lai returned and looked at Mu Yiran: "Who... do you still want to save?"
Ke Xun spoke up: "Yiran... ask him... if he can go to... other labs..."
Mu Yiran instantly understood his meaning and looked at Kang Lai: "Could you please help me go to the other three labs and rescue all our companions?"
Kang Lai stared blankly at Mu Yiran with his dark eyes and asked him: "You and him... are lovers...?"
This "him" referred to Ke Xun.
Ke Xun's neck and head were bound by leather shackles, unable to look up at Mu Yiran's expression and movements. His ears were filled with the vicious voice from his earpiece, so he couldn't hear clearly or whether Mu Yiran answered.
In the end, he only heard Kang Lai's voice "translated" from the phone, sorrowful and gentle, with a faint smile: "He... is very much like... my lover... just as stubborn... willful... and... affectionate... I hope you two... cherish each other..."
Ke Xun lost consciousness in the dim light.
A low, faint sound reached his ears, like a gentle, cool autumn breeze, softly and steadily blowing.
Ke Xun opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the sound.
Mu Yiran sat on the sofa by the French windows, his eyes lowered as he spoke softly on his phone. The bright sunlight streaming in from the window bathed him, making his fair skin and snow-white shirt reflect a soft glow.
His hair was still damp, as if he had just taken a shower, and his eyes and lips, moist from the bath, were even more vivid and picturesque.
Ke Xun licked his chapped lips, his throat dry and sore.
However, he didn't make a sound, simply continuing to lie on his side, staring unblinkingly at Mu Yiran.
"...Yes, I received the email," Mu Yiran continued on the phone in a low voice, his gaze falling on the glass coffee table in front of him, where a glass of water shimmered in the sunlight. "...Please help me with the paperwork. I'll take a flight tomorrow. I'll handle the subsequent matters, such as the relocation of the grave, in person...Yes, okay, that's all, goodbye."
Mu Yiran hung up the phone, his gaze shifting to Ke Xun lying on the bed.
"You have to take responsibility for him," Ke Xun said hoarsely, but that didn't stop him from being silly. He wrapped himself tightly in the sheet, putting on a pitiful look as if he had been ravaged by a refined beast.
The refined beast picked up the glass of water in front of him, got up and walked over, standing by the bed. Two buttons on his shirt collar were undone, exuding a restrained yet lustful aura. Ke Xun wished he could grab a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, put them on his nose, and then roll him up onto the bed.
"Get up and drink some water." Mu Yiran looked at him expressionlessly, treating his previous words as nothing.
Ke Xun obediently sat up and took the cup. "Is everyone else alright?" he asked, gulping down water. It was a pointless question; everyone else was definitely fine, otherwise Mu Yiran wouldn't be sitting here so calmly making a phone call and even kindly feeding him water.
"Yeah." Mu Yiran took back the cup Ke Xun had finished drinking from. "Want some more?"
"Yes." Ke Xun sat happily on the bed, looking up at him, his eyes sparkling.
"Get up and pour yourself." Mu Yiran turned and walked away coldly.
"..." Ke Xun fell back onto the bed, hugging the sheet and turning over, burying half his face in the pillow, the other half looking at Mu Yiran, who had sat back on the sofa. Seeing his phone vibrating incessantly, unsure if it was a call or a message, he sighed and asked, "Do you never rest all year round? Busy with work before entering a painting studio, busy with work after leaving one, so going through a life-or-death ordeal at a painting studio is just a side thing for you?"
"Otherwise what?" Mu Yiran swiped his phone, his slender fingers tapping on the screen.
Ke Xun scratched his head, thinking it made sense. If
making entering the painting world the most important thing in life, would life even continue?
Unless one wasn't fighting against "painting" to the very end, as long as one lived, one should cherish every day. If "painting" ruined one's real life, what was the point of living?
Ke Xun got out of bed and went to the bathroom to shower.
This hotel was booked by Mu Yiran. Ke Xun's luggage wasn't there, and his clothes were already soaked with sweat, so he had no clean clothes to change into after showering. He had to come out with a towel wrapped around his waist and asked the sullen-faced Mu Yiran, "Don't be nervous, I didn't mean to seduce you. I just wanted to ask if I could borrow some clothes to wear?"
Mu Yiran probably went through a very intense internal struggle, but in the end, he stood up with a sullen face and took out a pair of trousers and a shirt from his bag.
"Can't you lend me a pair of underwear?" Ke Xun flirted with danger. "I don't mind."
"Get dressed and get out of here." The boss barely suppressed the urge to smash his head in, speaking coldly.
Ke Xun sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on his pants: "I've never tried such a slick move before, wearing dress pants without underwear."
After buttoning his shirt, Ke Xun straightened his clothes and looked down at his lower body: "...Or could you lend me a suit jacket to cover up my bulge?"
Mu Yiran gave him a cold stare, his gaze lingering on the man before pausing slightly.
A person used to casual and lazy style suddenly switching to a noble and elegant style—such a contrast was visually striking.
Especially for someone like Ke Xun.
Without the casual, baggy style of his pants, his long, straight, muscular legs were perfectly presented, outlined by the crisp, well-tailored dress pants. His firm and perky buttocks, lightly covered by the elegant and noble clothing, were surprisingly sexy. The crisp, well-tailored shirt accentuated his slender waist and upright shoulders, making him appear exceptionally handsome and exuding immense charisma. He
seemed like a completely different person, less carefree and more dashing and… flamboyant.
"It's a bit awkward." Unaccustomed to wearing formal attire, Ke Xun sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at his crotch, a few stray hairs sticking up on his head clearly expressing his discomfort.
After Mu Yiran answered two more phone calls, Ke Xun walked over, sat on the sofa opposite him, picked up the glass of water he had just used, now refilled, looked at him, and asked, "What exactly happened with that Kang Lai?"