The Predator and the Prey

Humans are truly fascinating. They readily deceive themselves, embracing a fabricated truth while vehemently denying undeniable reality.

The car sped through streets sparsely populated with people, yet Luo Yao felt none of the exhilaration that usually accompanied such velocity. Instead, a profound irritation churned within him.

This agitation stemmed entirely from the inexplicable intruder who had breached the sanctity of his room. He had never imagined that he, a grown man, would one day find himself so vexed by such a bizarre reason. How was that person any different from the deranged stalkers of his previous world?

Yet, for now, he remained utterly powerless against this individual. Moreover, he wasn’t certain if Mu Yaochen was involved, and to err on the side of caution, Luo Yao decided against confiding in her. Such a revelation, he feared, could irrevocably alter the delicate balance of their relationship.

Although Mu Yaochen focused on the road, her gaze would intermittently flicker to Luo Yao, observing his state. Noticing his brow furrowed in deep contemplation, she couldn’t help but wonder,

‘Had I done something wrong?’

The sight of Luo Yao’s troubled expression immediately made Mu Yaochen feel as though she had inadvertently caused his unhappiness.

Mu Yaochen yearned to transform the nature of their relationship. Luo Yao’s aloofness, his neither-warm-nor-cold demeanor, left her profoundly uneasy. Had it not been for the apprehension that he might do something reckless, she would have long since taken him by force.

She, the formidable CEO of Bluebird, accustomed to standing alone, found herself utterly captivated by this young man. Even crucial work was unceremoniously delegated to her assistant.

That assistant, of course, was Frost.

Mu Yaochen harbored scant guilt over offloading her duties onto Frost to spend time with Luo Yao. In her estimation, Frost’s disposition was perfectly suited for such tasks. The crucial caveat, however, was that Frost must not harbor any interest in Luo Yao.

Now, a nagging suspicion began to gnaw at Mu Yaochen: perhaps Frost was not quite the person she had imagined. A sudden impulse to dismiss Frost seized Mu Yaochen. After all, the accumulating interactions between Frost and Luo Yao suggested they were perilously close to crossing an unspoken boundary within mere days.

At this thought, Mu Yaochen’s elegant hand, gripping the steering wheel, tightened, her nails digging sharply into the leather. She had explicitly warned Frost to maintain her distance, and Frost was no fool, yet she had brazenly insisted on feeding Luo Yao. ‘That privilege is exclusively mine,’ she fumed. ‘By what right does she claim it?’

And then…

Mu Yaochen suddenly recalled that it was she, herself, who had recently consented to Frost looking after Luo Yao in her absence. ‘What on earth was I thinking?’ she chastised herself. The realization that she had been unable to monitor Luo Yao for nearly half a day gnawed at her.

Luo Yao, conversely, had no inkling that Mu Yaochen, during this very interval of driving, was consumed by such a whirlwind of thoughts. Her composure, however, betrayed little of her internal turmoil.

‘Calm yourself, Mu Yaochen. Be calm,’ she inwardly commanded. A searing pain, as if a wound were being torn open, jolted Mu Yaochen back to full awareness. It was not a physical ache, but a torment emanating from the depths of her spirit.

“Where… where are we headed?” Luo Yao questioned from the passenger seat, gazing at the familiar landscape. “Isn’t this the very place Frost brought me to a few days ago?”

Though Luo Yao knew the answer, he pressed on. As a certain Mr. Ma once famously declared, ‘If you must drag me, then drag me hard.’ For Luo Yao, it was simply, ‘If I must ask, then ask I shall, resolutely.’

“Aren’t you planning to open a milk tea shop? I’m taking you to look at a location.”

Mu Yaochen treasured this rare instance of Luo Yao initiating conversation. Ever since that fateful night, he had seldom spoken to her first. Though, truth be told, his reticence wasn’t entirely new; unless absolutely necessary, Luo Yao rarely engaged Mu Yaochen in dialogue.

“Alright.”

In Mu Yaochen’s recollection, ‘milk tea’ referred either to a peculiar beverage from the Western Regions, its distinctive flavor often challenging for some palates, or to the foreign variety she had sampled—a rather insipid drink with a faint, underlying bitterness, a taste not universally welcomed. If Luo Yao genuinely intended to establish a shop dedicated to selling such milk tea, she harbored a strong suspicion that his thirty thousand yuan investment would be utterly squandered.

It wasn’t the thirty thousand yuan itself that concerned her; rather, she found Luo Yao to be endearingly naive and easily taken advantage of at times. The image of Luo Yao’s stubborn defiance during their first encounter at the hospital remained vivid in her mind. Even now, that memory was etched vividly in Mu Yaochen’s mind. Given a chance to rewind time, she would undoubtedly seize that initial opportunity to craft her persona, presenting herself as a gentle, caring older sister next door. Then, step by step, she would ensnare Luo Yao, making him fall hopelessly in love with her. Such was life, a perpetual performance. Ethereal and incurable.

“Do you need more money?” The thought of the milk tea shop lingered. Mu Yaochen wasn’t sure if Luo Yao’s vision aligned with her own, but thirty thousand yuan, in her estimation, was woefully insufficient to establish a storefront in the exorbitantly priced Fanhai City.

….

For a moment, a palpable tension settled within the confines of the car.

Truth be told, thirty thousand yuan was indeed a rather meager sum for Luo Yao. Yet, if Mu Yaochen was so openly offering him money, he suspected a trap undoubtedly lay hidden beneath the surface. Still, Luo Yao found himself desperately wanting it. He wondered if Mu Yaochen’s actions stemmed from a predator’s cruel desire to toy with its captured prey until death. She was the apex hunter, and he, merely her quarry.

Much like a cat toying with a mouse: a domestic feline, having caught its prey, rarely devours it immediately. Instead, it tortures the mouse like a plaything, letting it scurry about only to pounce and chase again. Only when the mouse finally resigns itself to its fate does the cat consume it. Luo Yao perceived himself as the mouse, and Mu Yaochen, the predatory cat.

“What’s wrong?” Mu Yaochen inquired, observing Luo Yao’s hesitant expression, perplexed by his apprehension. ‘Is he still wary of me?’ she mused.

Luo Yao’s aspiring milk tea shop could also be seen as his singular path to freedom from her. Mu Yaochen, however, had a meticulously crafted plan: she could offer him hope, and just as easily, she could plunge him into despair. He was, after all, merely a boy, albeit a strikingly handsome one. Yet, he remained untouched by the harsh realities and cruelties of society. Like many nascent entrepreneurs, he likely envisioned a glorious future, oblivious to the fact that upon entering the real world, they often find themselves fretting over the mundane necessities of daily life. Once Luo Yao experienced the crushing despair of this world, he would surely come to understand. Her embrace would be the warmest sanctuary, and the tenderness offered after such despair, the most unforgettable comfort. After that, he would surely never leave her. Only by her side would he truly be safe from harm. She was, and would always be, the singular, irreplaceable entity within his world.