Fear

"No."

Lin Yu refused without the slightest hesitation.

Everything that needed to be said had already been said—there was no point in repeating meaningless words.

After Lin Yu's blunt rejection, Qing Mo's eyes suddenly turned dangerous. She stared at him, her voice icy yet laced with a heavy threat, as if she had instantly reverted to that untouchable, ultra-wealthy heiress.

"You're refusing me?"

"Aren’t you afraid I might do something extreme in anger?"

"Lin Yu, let me make this clear—I have plenty of ways to make you submit."

Faced with such a blatant threat, Lin Yu didn’t get angry. Instead, he smiled.

Looking at Qing Mo’s frosty expression, he replied with casual indifference:

"Go ahead."

"If you don’t mind this one remaining dish losing its flavor and turning into plain bread and water, then by all means, try."

"You—!"

Qing Mo’s eyes widened. Just a second ago, she had been the picture of cold intimidation, but now she resembled a snow serpent pinned by its weak spot, left with nothing but icy fury in her glare.

Lin Yu smirked and continued mercilessly:

"Qing Mo, you won’t dare do anything to me."

"You’re more afraid than I am of that feeling disappearing."

"Right?"

"Your attraction to me stems entirely from what happened that night."

"In that life-or-death moment, you developed a fear of me—a deep, primal fear."

"Even though you know full well now that you could easily manipulate or control me..."

"The shadow I cast over you that night runs too deep. So deep that even if your mind tells you I’m no threat, your bones, your soul—they still tremble at the thought of me."

"And that fear is the very foundation of the thrill you feel."

"You wouldn’t dare threaten me, kidnap me, or force me into anything I don’t want."

"Because you’re terrified that if you push too far, you’ll stop fearing me altogether."

"And if you stop fearing me..."

"That pleasure born from fear will vanish without a trace."

Lin Yu grinned like a villain, his tone dripping with dark amusement:

"I’m guessing you don’t want that to happen, do you?"

???

At this point, Lin Yu frowned, puzzled.

Why did he always end up talking like this?

His words pierced through Qing Mo’s tough facade like a needle through paper.

Exposed, she slumped, her usual arrogance replaced by rare vulnerability.

Ignoring her wounded expression, Lin Yu turned his gaze back to the frozen river, watching it defy the relentless winter.

After a long silence, Qing Mo finally spoke again, her voice tinged with resentment but mostly confusion.

"Lin Yu, I don’t understand."

"Any other man would never refuse me."

"But you did. And you said you only want to do those things with someone you love."

"Fine."

"Even if that’s your principle..."

"Why can’t you love me?"

"Am I not beautiful enough?"

"Or is there some other reason?"

Lin Yu didn’t look at her, answering flatly:

"You don’t love me, so why should I love you?"

"What if I do?" Qing Mo pressed, her tone sharp.

"Do you even know what love is?"

Lin Yu couldn’t help but find it amusing. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what true love meant himself, he knew one thing for certain—Qing Mo’s feelings for him weren’t it.

What she felt was a twisted, pathological attachment, built on desire and fear.

"Too late for that now," Lin Yu said softly, shaking his head.

"I already love someone else."

"Since when?" Qing Mo frowned.

"A long time ago."

"I just didn’t acknowledge it until now."

His words hung lightly in the air, leaving another heavy silence between them.

Only the howling wind filled the void.

Finally, Qing Mo spoke again, her voice uncharacteristically fierce:

"Lin Yu!"

"Don’t think just because you’ve seen through me, you can control me."

"I might not dare to hurt you..."

"But I won’t let you go either!"

"Like you said, I won’t let this feeling fade."

"If I’d never experienced it, I might’ve lived in ignorance until my last breath."

"But now that I have, I refuse to let it slip away!"

"I’ll haunt you, disrupt your life—"

"Until the day you choose to be with me."

"Go see a doctor."

"I know an old Chinese physician."

"Maybe he can help you."

Lin Yu was subtly calling her insane.

Qing Mo’s cold eyes flared with anger, but despite everything, she still didn’t leave. Instead, she sat beside him, stewing in silence before finally muttering:

"I’m not happy!"

Lin Yu sniffed, well aware of what she meant.

He stood and started walking back the way they came.

"Then let’s go back to the car..."

...

"Don’t be afraid."

"Nothing will happen."

"Don’t be scared..."

His voice was soft, soothing—like comforting a girl waking from a nightmare.

But his hands told a different story.

Veins bulged faintly as one covered Qing Mo’s eyes, the other gripping her throat...

...

Seeing Qing Mo limp as a ragdoll, Lin Yu decided it was safer not to ride with her.

What if her trembling legs mistook the gas for the brakes?

His journey of pure love had only just begun—he couldn’t afford to restart from scratch!

With that in mind, he left the car and hailed a taxi.

After Lin Yu was gone, Qing Mo gradually regained awareness, her pupils refocusing.

With great effort, she pulled herself back into the driver’s seat.

Once she’d caught her breath, she picked up her phone and dialed a number.

The call connected before the third ring.

After another pause, she spoke coldly:

"Make sure Zhou He behaves. He’s not to contact my parents again."