Into the cold, cruel smile, Tao Hua stared. It was planted in a way that could easily represent autumn leaves. Wavering, and at any moment, ready to fall off.
Which made it an ever-more daunting experience with each passing second that ticked by. Tao Hua's expression, however, fell with ease and contorted in horror.
They hadn't once exchanged formalities, especially given Tao Hua's outburst in The Bookstore—so there really could only be a few ways this Lord No-Name figured out his name.
He either knew it the entire time, and all of this was intention, or he found it out after their meeting. The ladder seemed more realistic, and the first was merely a wishful thinker hoping.
"H…how?" he asked, but he'd already guessed the reason despite his mind working solely in hieroglyphs at that point.
"Shouldn't it be obvious?" Lord No-Name laughed. It was a laugh that held no joy, nor did it sound like it was mocking Tao Hua. This laugh was painful, almost.
Which was even more confusing.
"I wasn't wrong about my assumption earlier, was I?" asked Lord No-Name.
Tao Hua, in a state of utter shock, tried to think back to exactly what Lord No-Name meant, but his mind was more scrambled than a poorly fried quail's egg. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't lift his hands up and scratch the frustration away.
He was as still and as cautious as any victim.
That only lasted a moment longer before Lord No-Name lifted his arm and pointed to his sleeve. "You certainly do have a sad life, Tao Hua."
The sleeve fluttered a bit, and when it finally hit him, Tao Hua's head dipped and his shoulders slumped. Of course. Who was he to think this situation was any different?
Easing his hands, his eyes jumped from one trembling finger to the next, but even the image of his own limbs started to blur into the mess of animosity. He refused to face the man ahead of him, and only let out a small, weak sigh.
The words stung…more than any words spoken to him all day. It stung more than the comment about his mother, or the way his father pinched his neck. None of that could compare to this moment.
And yet? They were true.
Truth and bitterness didn't always work in parallel; sometimes the two worked amazingly well as a pair. Oh, what was the saying?
Tao Hua tapped his finger, trying to think it up—and was it ever an odd time to try to shift through the already mushed-up mind for a comparison, and he'd soon find it: the term he'd been looking for.
Opposites attract?
Yes. That was the word.
Tao Hua always thought it meant something pleasant, as per the books. That was another thing he was slowly learning was only meant for a page.
With a soft and feeble smile, Tao Hua choked back anything else from resurfacing. He whispered, "I know."
He wanted to add on "I deserve it" but the words wouldn't brush past the pain of his throat, and they hitched firmly against his chest with a dull ache. It's not that he didn't believe them, but it was the admission of his earlier lies that he struggled with. It tagged along with all the guilt and self-deprecation he'd been holding.
As if that would change the situation and bring back the optimism he'd once had in this person. Hopeless.
"Naturally," replied Lord No-Name, staring at his own sleeve as it dangled with lifted brows and half-lidded eyes that followed each swing. "You're a creative man. An autobiography written in symbolism and stories. Clever."
Caught.
Tao Hua's head slumped to the side a bit, just as he tried to zone out from the man's words.
It failed. It never failed. Why did it fail?
In an attempt to find the answer, he reminisced every missed clue back in The Bookstore. The more he thought about it, every action, every smile, every touch—the more his expression twisted into an angry and hurt smile.
Not at this man, of course. It was directed to himself.
All Tao Hua could think about was just how stupid he was to fall for something so clearly unrealistic when all the signs were blazingly obvious. Thus he'd cast himself as nothing more than an obsessive fool who had it coming.
Just like everyone he'd ever spoken to warned—even if the warnings were only ever said with resentment.
And thinking back…one afternoon. Really?
That's all it took for Tao Hua to so readily become attached to someone he had hardly known. Simply because he sat with him, kept something made by him, and said a few kind words.
Any person would have clocked that as someone with ulterior motive, but what experience did Tao Hua have? He was running under the assumption that the world worked exactly like they did inside a book.
Every attempt at dissociation scribbled and crumbled, making Tao Hua's current state even more difficult. Each time he opened his mouth to respond, he'd snap it shut, falling silent.
Every time he did happen to get a few words out, they'd become indistinguishable and incapable of forming even a single sentence.
Listen closely, and past the heavy breaths, perhaps a few words could be made out. They were sad and ranged from "I'm sorry" to the many ways one could address themselves—often unpleasant and degrading.
And finally, when he could actually form a proper sentence, he'd whisper it so quietly that not even the bugs scuttling around his room could understand him.
That sentence was:
"I'm such an idiot."
He'd say, falling closer to the ground and submerging himself deeper into his self-loathing—for the first time in his life. Lord No-Name simply stood there, expressionless.
He lowered his hand, but didn't say a word. No yelling, no demands, no countdown; nothing. All he'd do was watch Tao Hua as he mindlessly shuffled his hands on the ground, waiting.
Tao Hua's fingers twitched against the wood, just as the pain coursed through each limb. But even despite this, he kept them sat firmly against the dirt that dared infect each wound.
In another muttered apology, he whispered, "I'm so sorry."
But that apology…the one that caused Lord No-Name's brows to furrow, wasn't directed toward him. Instead, Tao Hua said it as he faced the ground—muttering it repeatedly as his mind wandered.
The pain hadn't registered, nor the mess. Just the repetitive thoughts resounding in his head, over and over.
An idiot. Fool.
Tao Hua paused, almost looking like a person reconsidering his thoughts, but even that moment passed too soon.
I deserve this.
And the worst part? Tao Hua still refused to cry. He really wanted to, and his entire body tensed up the moment his eyes fell heavy, but the only liquid to grace those repulsive floors were dyed in red and shaped in the print of a hand.
What made him even more foolish was that he wanted it all back—everything he had experienced that afternoon. For someone of his calibre and loneliness, of course he'd plunge for such an ungodly person.
It must have been ten minutes with Tao Hua on the ground, folding into a knelt, mournful position. He hadn't once looked up at the Lord No-Name, but it was clear he hadn't moved an inch. But his finger? It tapped against his sword's hilt, right on the knot that kept the bookmark firmly in place.
"Sit up," he said efficiently. "You look pitiful down there."
Tao Hua let out a sigh.
He really didn't want to. So, he reluctantly replied, "Yes, sir."
And slowly, he pushed himself onto his knees. But he didn't look up at Lord No-Name. Instead, he reached for each shard and counted them. He'd do this a few times before stacking them on each other.
He would do this even against the deadline issued by Lord No-Name, and he'd continue despite his sluggish movements that felt more impaired than anything.
"…" He looked away and scoffed a laugh that felt more impartial than offended. "Not going to ask for mine?"
Tao Hua didn't answer—he couldn't, because he had nothing to answer his question with. The desire to find out more about this man terrified him in ways he couldn't understand.
Most importantly…he didn't want to taint the already burning image of the man he'd met earlier. Even in his worst moments, he was a jester holding tightly to the version of someone who no longer existed.
But no dissociation could smudge the dim reality. It was finely lit, and more realized than a mystical dragon shimmering in gold.
Such a beautiful image hidden within a creature of great hostility.
Perhaps this was the moment Tao Hua had accepted all those dreams and books…they were only ever made for the paper and had no place in the real world.
Another few clinks of one shard after another resounded in that room until his hand stopped midway. The blood travelled down his fingers and splashed onto his reflection.
He was still smiling. So this is what it meant to fake a smile and remain hollow.
He flipped that shard upside down and placed it on that pile, lowering his head. His hair swamped his vision, making it hard to see the reality that stood before him.
To his shock, Lord No-Name lowered his voice into something softer. It was kinder by any means, but it wasn't threatening.
"Shan Si," he said, just as Tao Hua peeked through a crack in his hair, watching as this man, Shan Si, folded his arms and stared out the window.
"It's better than Research Buddy."
Chapter end.