Psychic Suspension

Pathological attachment is an extreme emotional bond—unbalanced, out of control—often rooted in childhood emotional neglect, unstable caregiving, separation trauma, or abuse.

Lin Sangyu fit every single criterion, like clay waiting to be molded.

Jiang Wenzhe understood this all too well. Lurking in the shadows, he began his dark hunt.

He'd noticed Lin Sangyu's tendency toward self-destructive recklessness from the very start, back when she was still living in his home like a sugar glider, refusing to leave no matter how many times he tried to get rid of her.

Sugar gliders are naturally timid and sensitive. Even after being abandoned time and again, she kept crawling back to a villa that was practically a trap for her.

In the wild, she might starve; in his home, she risked his wrath. Between two ways to die, she chose him.

Jiang Wenzhe knew that, in that moment, Lin Sangyu had already given herself to him, in a sense.

But it wasn't enough.

To further deconstruct and reshape her, Jiang Wenzhe placed Lin Sangyu in a state of suspended waiting—a vacuum.

He used the villa's dead, empty environment to confine her boundaries. Limited social contact, dull tutoring sessions—all of it silently compressed her space.

It wasn't captivity, but it was better than captivity. Day after day, her spirit was forced into suspension, her only task being to wait for him.

Sometimes, he'd deliberately stay at the office until late. When he pushed open the door bathed in moonlight, he'd find a flustered, anxious Lin Sangyu—eyes misty, fingers fidgeting with her clothes, utterly consumed by him.

At such times, all he had to do was give her a proper hug, a bit of warmth, and the lingering sense that he might leave again tomorrow. She'd be soothed of her anxiety while simultaneously craving this twisted warmth even more, like clutching a red-hot iron in the dead of winter.

Of course, that alone wasn't enough. Jiang Wenzhe needed to brand her on a deeper level—through the infiltration of daily life, to achieve true mental domestication.

Everything in the house came in matching pairs, and their belongings were always mixed together, never neatly separated. It was as if their lives had been completely fused and kneaded into one.

Jiang Wenzhe also bought clothes and accessories dripping with his strong aesthetic, dressing Lin Sangyu in them by force, making sure she felt his presence at all times.

Oh, wait—not force. Lin Sangyu was more than willing.

He'd burn cedar incense with calming, sleep-inducing properties while at home, then ruthlessly snuff it out the moment he left, reinforcing Lin Sangyu's state of "waiting" over and over again.

Only through collapse could there be rebirth.

The forced posture—neck craned upward for so long—was uncomfortable. Lin Sangyu let out a faint whimper, and Jiang Wenzhe snapped out of his obsessive trance, his gaze settling back on her face.

Lin Sangyu frowned slightly, her expression twisted, her rosy lips parting unconsciously to reveal a hint of pink tongue and puffs of warm breath.

Broken. Beautiful.

"Uncomfortable?" Jiang Wenzhe traced his fingers lightly over her long, pale neck like a jeweler polishing a gem.

Lin Sangyu nodded fearfully.

In response, Jiang Wenzhe gave her a deep look with his dark eyes, then immediately withdrew his hand, expressionless. He pulled a wet wipe from the coffee table and, under her watchful gaze, slowly wiped his fingers clean.

Then, without a word, he turned and left.

No warning, still so cold. The warmth on her neck lingered, though.

Why?

Lin Sangyu completely broke down. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shouted desperately at his retreating back, "Don't go!"

"Isn't it uncomfortable?"

Her breakdown only fueled Jiang Wenzhe's twisted sense of satisfaction and control. The feeling was so intense his blood seemed to surge and boil. But he kept his expression indifferent, tossed out that line, and turned again to leave. He'd almost reached the staircase when he heard hurried footsteps behind him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lin Sangyu stumbling toward him.

With a thud—accompanied by the harsh rustle of fabric—she fell.

Her hair was a mess over her shoulders, her hands clawing at the floor, her shirt collar flipped open haphazardly. She looked up at him with bloodshot, pitiful eyes.

As if to say, don't abandon me.

Jiang Wenzhe's heart pounded like thunder as he walked over and crouched beside her, a gentle smile softening his face. His voice was uncharacteristically tender.

"So careless."

Lin Sangyu cried even harder. She crawled forward on her knees and threw herself into his embrace, desperate to burrow into him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said I was uncomfortable."

Jiang Wenzhe hadn't even hurt her, but Lin Sangyu suddenly hated herself from a minute ago.

He patted her trembling back and lifted her onto the sofa, then coaxed, "So, will you accept the punishment?"

Lin Sangyu let out a muffled "Mm," then pushed herself up and bared her fragile neck like an offering.

"Good girl." Jiang Wenzhe grabbed her neck again, gazing at her tears—tears he caused—with obsession.

The next second, without warning, he lowered his head and kissed her. His scent finally enveloped her completely once more.

Lin Sangyu's heart, which had just settled, soared again. An unfamiliar sensation sparked along her nerves.

She'd expected the kiss to be fierce, but it wasn't. Jiang Wenzhe was unexpectedly gentle. He started with a tentative peck at the corner of her lips, then deepened into delicate kisses. His hand, which had been on her neck, had somehow moved to the back of her head, soothing her trembling.

When their lips and tongues met, Lin Sangyu felt her mouth go numb, her heart threatening to burst from her chest. She shyly pulled her tongue back.

Jiang Wenzhe didn't get annoyed. He just kissed harder, deeper, his arms tightening. Between breaths, he pressed against her lips and commanded, "Open your mouth, stick out your tongue, baby."

Lin Sangyu froze for a second, then closed her eyes and obediently parted her lips, giving herself over to him again.

Outside the window, the night was thick as ink. The light inside seemed to dim, leaving only the person before her glowing. Shadows danced between them, and even the shadows seemed to stir with desire.

When the kiss ended, they rested their foreheads together, panting. Jiang Wenzhe pressed another kiss to her eyelid. "So good."

Just stay this obedient forever. Don't think about leaving.

Lin Sangyu licked her lips and said awkwardly, "Isn't... isn't it bad for a man and woman to touch too much?"

Jiang Wenzhe raised an eyebrow, watching her cheeks flush crimson. He chuckled. "So you'd rather we not touch?"

"No... we should." Lin Sangyu unconsciously clutched the hem of her shirt, her temperature rising.

"Alright." Jiang Wenzhe knew when to stop, deciding not to tease her further.

Lin Sangyu was still hung up on the earlier question. She mustered her courage and asked, "So... can I go on the business trip with you?"

"Of course." Jiang Wenzhe pinched her cheek.

"Will you take me with you in the future, too?"

"Yes."

"Do you swear?"

"I swear."

Lin Sangyu was finally satisfied. The summer breeze outside seemed to settle along with her racing heart.

Jiang Wenzhe picked Lin Sangyu up, facing him, and carried her upstairs to the bedroom. He set her on the bed, then went into the bathroom to draw her a bath. When she got up to wash, he slipped into the walk-in closet.

Their destination this time was the UK—a high-latitude, ocean-wrapped country where early June was cooler than back home.

Jiang Wenzhe laid out two suitcases. In one, he packed ten outfits he'd chosen for Lin Sangyu. In the other, he put the hotel sheets and pillowcases he'd pre-washed and sanitized, along with toiletries from the same brands she used, and a small first-aid kit.

The kit was stocked with various remedies for jet lag and upset stomachs—he worried she wouldn't adjust to the new place.

Halfway through his packing, Lin Sangyu emerged from her bath, all warm and steamy.

Jiang Wenzhe glanced up. "Done?"

"Mm, done."

"You're quicker than usual today."

"Because I wanted to see you sooner." Embarrassed by her own words, Lin Sangyu pretended to be busy, crouching down to inspect the suitcase and changing the subject. "You've already packed?"

Jiang Wenzhe played along and answered, "Almost."

With her hair in a bun and a few loose strands falling lazily against her pale neck, her vertebrae showing a graceful curve, Lin Sangyu blinked and asked, "Do I need to pack myself in here too?"

"Are you dumb?" Jiang Wenzhe sighed, exasperated. "You're not my luggage."

Lin Sangyu dropped her head again, mumbling, "Okay."

Jiang Wenzhe stepped forward, crouched beside her, and lifted her chin with his long fingers. "From now on, don't look down when you talk to me. Look at people."

Lin Sangyu wanted to say she only did that with him—for some reason, she never dared meet his eyes directly—but she thought better of it and looked away. "Got it."

"Good."

Jiang Wenzhe told himself: Still needs training.

Once he finished packing, Jiang Wenzhe zipped the suitcases and carried them downstairs to the entryway.

Lin Sangyu followed him like a shadow, wherever he went, she went—silent, a quiet little tail.

Jiang Wenzhe let her follow until everything was in place, then asked with amusement, "You're not going to sleep?"

Lin Sangyu: "You're not sleeping either."

"Fine, I'm off to bed now."

They went upstairs, and as Lin Sangyu reached for the handle of the media room door, she glanced back instinctively. There was Jiang Wenzhe, leaning casually against the frame of his own bedroom door, arms crossed, watching her from about three meters away.

The hallway light shone only on her side; between them, one bright, one dark. In the darkness, Jiang Wenzhe's gaze held the terrifying quality of a predator locking onto its prey—a slick, slithering gloom. A chill ran down Lin Sangyu's spine.

Just as she was about to speak, his voice came, low and seductive:

"Want to sleep with me?"