Chapter 58 Catch Me

Canine senses are exceptionally sharp, and Yan Zhuo caught the faint scent of flowers.

It came from the creeping basket plant on the windowsill. It should have entered its dormant period during the winter, with its growth slowing accordingly, yet conversely, it had formed flower buds today. Though not yet fully in bloom, its refined and delicate fragrance had already drifted out ahead.

Flowers blooming in the winter of the apocalypse were exceedingly rare.

Qu Yan’s words at this moment were even rarer and more precious.

So much so that Yan Zhuo was completely stunned. He loosened his grip on Qu Yan’s wrist, then tightened it again, repeating this several times before he uncertainly murmured, "A-Yan... could you say that again, please?"

"Yan Zhuo, I like you. Can I still like you? Or rather... will you still like me?" Qu Yan’s entire body was burning hot. He had a high fever, and his speech carried a faint nasal congestion.

Uttering these words was not as agonizingly humiliating as he had imagined. He should have realized long ago that he was wrong—love knows no hierarchy, and admitting one's love does not mean conceding defeat.

"L-Like me... really?" Yan Zhuo’s tongue was tied in excitement. He stared fixedly at Qu Yan, then suddenly became alert again. "Is A-Yan tricking me?"

Qu Yan leaned forward. He had originally intended to give Yan Zhuo a kiss, but he severely overestimated his physical state. His head was dizzy from the fever, and the moment he straightened up, he lost control and toppled forward, his chin bumping heavily against the bridge of Yan Zhuo’s nose. Yan Zhuo let out a muffled grunt.

"Don't move, let me see." Qu Yan hooked his arms around Yan Zhuo's neck, lifting his chin to inspect the damage. The bridge of his nose was marked with a red patch, which, coupled with his wide, watery eyes blinking left and right, made Yan Zhuo look utterly pitiful.

Tracing a finger from his chin along his jawline, Qu Yan said earnestly, "I'm not tricking you. I like you the most."

Something was rhythmically slapping against the soft quilt, sound following sound in steady succession. Qu Yan lowered his gaze to look and saw Yan Zhuo’s excited wolf tail wagging away.

The tip of the tail brushed back and forth against the blanket until static electricity began to crackle.

Planting both hands on the bed, Yan Zhuo nudged forward like a giant pet, finally burying his head in the crook of Qu Yan’s neck. "I believe you, A-Yan. This is the last time—don't trick me again. You can make me do anything, just don't trick me anymore."

A cat that has been abandoned tends to become exceptionally docile when taken back in, purely out of the fear of being abandoned once more. The little wolf was probably much the same.

Qu Yan was pressed down so heavily that he struggled to maintain his balance, barely managing to prop himself up. "And what about your answer? Will you still like me?"

"I like you." Yan Zhuo did not hesitate for even a fraction of a second. In his world, facing Qu Yan, this seemed destined to be his permanent answer.

He was innocent and pure-hearted; once he set his mind on someone, he would never let go. Yet the more he acted this way, the more timid Qu Yan felt.

Qu Yan’s throat bobbed up and down twice, but the voice that escaped was still hoarse. "Why? I've already told you, I am not a kind person..."

"Why does A-Yan think I like you for reasons like that?" Yan Zhuo interrupted. "Am I supposed to fall for everyone who feeds stray cats? There are so many people in the world who play the piano—am I supposed to love every single one of them?"

Qu Yan moved his lips, producing only a meaningless puff of breath. Reason told him that the logic behind Yan Zhuo's words was flawed, but his dizzy, fever-addled brain could not conjure a single retort.

He quietly listened on.

Yan Zhuo turned his face sideways, his gaze falling upon the flower buds of the creeping basket plant, and let out a soft chuckle. "I don't like cats at all. Yan Xingzhang once used cats for experiments, injecting them with rage-inducing serums before throwing them into cages to make the young me fight them. Those cats were extremely ferocious; their teeth would immediately draw blood the moment they bit down, and their claws were razor-sharp. I was left with countless scars..."

He lifted his chin, pulled his collar down slightly, and pointed a finger just above his Adam's apple. "Right here. It bled a lot back then. I thought I was going to die, but in the end, it only left a scar. Now it's invisible—after I turned into this state, all my old scars vanished."

The skin on his neck was smooth and unblemished, radiating a healthy vitality. Qu Yan could not fathom how long or deep the original scar must have been, and he blinked, his eyes stinging slightly. "Did it hurt?"

*Of course it hurt,* he answered himself in his heart.

Yet Yan Zhuo shook his head. "It didn't hurt. Yan Xingzhang wouldn't let me die, so the medicine he gave me was always the best."

How could anyone say such things? Qu Yan had been sickly and prone to illness in his childhood, and while his mother was alive, she had doted on him so thoroughly that he would make a tremendous fuss even if he accidentally grazed his skin red. Yet Yan Zhuo could smile and utter such a lie as "it didn't hurt." How could anyone be so foolish?

Yan Zhuo was still smiling, his eyes curving into little crescents, looking both silly and foolish as he continued, "And the piano, too. If you ask me what kind of music I like, I couldn't name a single piece. If you weren't the one playing it, I definitely would have fallen asleep."

He made a drowsy, nodding expression, and Qu Yan couldn't help the corners of his lips twitching upward. Catching sight of this, Yan Zhuo leaned in and rubbed his face against Qu Yan's cheek, clingy and affectionate.

Qu Yan couldn't dodge in time and scolded him, "Have you really turned into a dog?"

Yan Zhuo hummed and emphasized, "A wolf. I'm a wolf."

They held each other in silence for a while. Yan Zhuo massaged the soft flesh at the nape of Qu Yan's neck, offering a very straightforward comfort. "Feeding cats, playing the piano, or anything else—I only ever noticed them because you were the one doing them. If it were anyone else, no matter how kind they were or how beautifully they played the piano, it wouldn't have mattered to me in the slightest."

"A-Yan, can you imagine? During all those days when I lost consciousness, not once did I ever think about giving up. Every single second of my body being torn apart hurt so badly, and I could feel myself slowly turning into a monster. I wasn't afraid of the pain; my only worry was whether my appearance would become hideously ugly, and what I should do if I scared you when I finally appeared before you." His voice gradually grew lower. "I fantasized about the scene of meeting you again, what I would say, what expression I would wear... I survived purely by relying on those fantasies. A-Yan, I wouldn't have survived without you. You are important—to me, you are very, very important."

His words were solemn and resolute; no one could possibly doubt them.

Qu Yan felt even more dizzy. The rate at which he blinked slowed down, and everything in his field of vision blurred into overlapping double images. Yet as Yan Zhuo spoke right beside his ear, every single word remained crystal clear.

Yan Zhuo said he was important—very, very important.

His chest felt scorching hot, and his heart pounded *thump, thump*. Why was Yan Zhuo's heartbeat so fast? Qu Yan belatedly realized that it wasn't just Yan Zhuo's heart—his own heart was racing wildly as well.

The heartbeats of the two of them overlapped, sounding loud enough to pierce through everything.

Qu Yan was truly on the verge of fainting. Every organ in his body was screaming for rest, save for his heart, which acted as the sole rebel.

"Yan Xingzhang wanted to turn me into a monster, to forge me into his exclusive weapon of murder. I won't let him have his way." Yan Zhuo’s arms tightened, nearly embedding Qu Yan into his own body. "Hold onto me, A-Yan. Don't let go. A monster needs a master to keep him from going mad."

"Okay..."

Qu Yan answered instinctively.

He finally lost consciousness completely. His fever was, after all, terribly severe.