The Snake Bone Bracelet and the Sleeping Beauty Play

Upon hearing the sound, Su Yan froze, unable to turn his head. He dreaded the sight of a terrifying scene: Lu Lin, perhaps, brandishing a knife, its blade still slick with fresh blood.

Such a horrifying tableau seemed ripped straight from the darkest horror films.

Su Yan stubbornly resisted the urge to look back, appearing to engage Lu Lin in a silent battle of wills, though in truth, his legs felt like jelly, and his lips were drawn into a taut, pale line.

The room before him reeked of the grotesque and the sanguinary. The bed curtains were drawn so tightly that not a single sliver of light pierced through, while the walls were festooned with an array of intimate implements.

Above the expansive bed, lavishly scattered with roses, hung a pair of long, dangling ankle chains. His gaze drifted lower, revealing a collection of handcuffs in various styles.

These, naturally, were not the ornamental kind, but instruments of restraint and confinement; had they been mere trinkets, Su Yan’s legs would not have turned to such utter jelly.

Even a cardboard box lay by his feet, brimming with disturbingly lifelike prosthetic limbs.

No matter how vividly horror was penned in a novel, it paled in comparison to the visceral jolt of a personal encounter. After all, mere words on a page could only ever evoke a sense of nausea.

As footsteps steadily encroached from behind, Su Yan, in a desperate act of avoidance, remained steadfast in his refusal to turn, as if by simply not looking, he could prevent the inevitable.

It was only when the door slammed shut with a resounding ‘bang’ that Su Yan’s eyes snapped open, and he spun around abruptly. A faint blush crept across his cheeks as his lips trembled, forming a hesitant plea: “Don’t shut me in.”

“Please, I beg you.”

Upon turning, he realized Lu Lin had not made the dramatic entrance of a horror movie villain; in his hand, he even clutched a bag of steamed buns, seemingly having rushed in upon noticing the room’s open door, without even pausing to set his belongings down.

It was then that Su Yan recognized his own surprising resilience in the face of crisis; his voice trembled with a faint tremor, his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and while he yearned to retreat, he simultaneously feared drawing any closer to the unsettling collection of props.

“Yanyan.” Lu Lin offered no answer to his question, choosing instead to smile and simply repeat his name.

Su Yan shivered with a jolt of fear, his gaze fixed on his shoes. He dared not speak, for the day’s events had undeniably brought forth his innate talent for cowardice.

Having already faced death once, he harbored no desire to experience it again.

Lu Lin’s shoes clicked against the floor, emitting a rhythmic ‘tap-tap’ that echoed ominously, a sound that seemed to symbolize the imminent loss of Su Yan’s freedom.

Stepping closer, Lu Lin used his fingertips to gently lift Su Yan’s chin, revealing silent tears streaming down his face. His beautiful eyes, wide and innocent, were now entirely rimmed with moisture, his long lashes thoroughly dampened.

A peculiar sensation stirred within him, a strange tickle, yet he found himself disinclined to witness Su Yan’s tears.

In that moment, Lu Lin gently cupped Su Yan’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, treating him with the delicate reverence usually reserved for fragile porcelain.

A soft, lingering touch bloomed on the back of his hand, and Su Yan, raising his eyes, stared at Lu Lin with profound disbelief.

Without uttering a single word, Lu Lin slipped something onto Su Yan’s wrist, then opened the room door, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he said, “Let’s go home.”

“Your parents are waiting.”

Su Yan eyed him with deep suspicion, yet Lu Lin displayed not an ounce of self-consciousness, behaving as though the bizarre contents of the room had vanished into thin air.

Su Yan adamantly refused Lu Lin’s offer to drive him, choosing instead to hail a taxi. It was only after he settled into the back seat, feeling the gentle warmth of the sunlight on his skin, that his tightly wound heart began to unfurl.

Glancing down at his wrist, he noticed that Lu Lin had fastened a bracelet there—a delicate snake bone bracelet.

The bracelet was exquisitely crafted, its elegant design complemented by the perfectly sized snake bones that fit Su Yan’s wrist with uncanny precision.

He didn’t ponder it for long, merely making a silent vow to himself: once the main character made their appearance, he would endeavor to play matchmaker. Naturally, he understood the imperative of not offending Lu Lin, lest he meet a truly wretched end.

He had no desire to have his oxygen mask violently ripped away.

Given the considerable distance between the villa district and his home, he leaned against the window and drifted into a brief slumber.

His parents had only just returned from Sanya a few days prior, and the house, no longer steeped in a chilling silence, had finally reclaimed its accustomed warmth and bustle.

Once the driver gently tapped his shoulder, rousing him from his nap, Su Yan slowly retrieved his phone and began the walk home. The security in their residential area was so stringent that taxis were simply not permitted to enter.

He could only trudge forward, his body heavy with fatigue.

Upon reaching home, he discovered his parents had already prepared his favorite breakfast, a sight that instantly warmed him and significantly softened his mood.

Su Yan settled at the table, slowly blowing on the steaming porridge to cool it before bringing a spoonful to his lips, when a sudden, unsettling realization struck him: the atmosphere felt subtly eerie.

Mr. Su and Ms. Shen were typically quite voluble; what, then, was the meaning behind their current, hesitant silence?

Yet, each time he looked up, the strange sensation dissipated. It wasn’t until he suddenly snapped his head up, catching them off guard, that their eyes met his directly.

“Mom, Dad, what exactly are you two trying to say?!” Su Yan set down his sweet porridge with a thud, utterly choked with exasperation.

Shen Tang, apparently too embarrassed to broach the subject herself, nudged Su Ming with her elbow. “You tell him,” she urged.

Su Ming, typically the image of a stern father and devoted husband within their home, now hesitated, a rare uncertainty coloring his expression.

As Su Yan inwardly speculated about what could possibly cause such mutual reluctance, Su Ming cleared his throat and spoke with an air of solemnity. “Su Yan,” he began, “were we perhaps too strict with you during high school?”

Su Yan picked up his porridge once more, pondered for a moment, and then answered earnestly, “Perhaps a little.”

After all, throughout high school, his friends had often ribbed him about being “strictly controlled at home.” Despite being the wealthiest among them, he consistently had the least amount of pocket money.

They claimed it was to teach him the proper allocation of funds.

Could it be that, asking such a question, they had, in their quiet moments, come to feel they had somehow wronged him?

“Well, it’s not entirely necessary…” Su Yan began, intending to playfully quip, but his words were abruptly cut short.

“Are you, then, attempting to provoke us now?”

Su Yan: “…” *Huh?*

Shen Tang gently nudged Su Ming, a subtle signal to temper his words.

“We forbade early relationships in high school because we feared you’d lead other girls astray,” Su Ming stated, his voice stern, causing Su Yan’s mind to fill with an exasperated silence.

“You’re so carefree and irresponsible every day. If you truly enter a relationship, you must take full responsibility for the other person!”

Su Yan: “?”

Su Yan found himself utterly unable to eat another bite, completely bewildered by his parents’ early morning pronouncements.

Were they attempting to re-educate him on matters of the heart?

While it was true that some students embarked on beautiful romances the moment they stepped into university, what possible bearing did that have on him, Su Yan?

“What in the world are you two rambling about?”

To Su Ming’s ears, these words translated into an obstinate refusal to admit the truth, a glaring lack of responsibility, and an absence of commitment. “Bring them home for us to meet one day,” he declared sternly.

Could his father possibly know he had been forced into being gay? No, that was utterly impossible.

Su Yan, still stubbornly defiant, declared, “I’m not dating a girl.”

He spoke the truth, for he was indeed involved with a boy. Su Ming and Shen Tang, predictably, entirely missed the subtle loophole in his declaration.

“Where’s Sister Qingyuan? Hasn’t she returned?” Su Yan, though utterly bewildered by the situation, was desperately trying to salvage the familial harmony by steering the conversation elsewhere.

Evidently, his parents did not fall for the diversion; instead, they began to scold him.

“Hello, everyone.” A clear, melodious female voice drifted into their ears.

Xie Qingyuan entered directly through the garden gate. Their families were such old acquaintances that she felt entirely at liberty to come and go as she pleased.

Xie Qingyuan, two years his senior, had started school early and was currently pursuing her master’s degree in the neighboring city. They had been inseparable playmates since childhood.

Su Yan genuinely enjoyed spending time with her, finding a peculiar sense of security in her presence. Xie Qingyuan was precisely the sort of person who appeared utterly unreliable, yet proved to be quite the opposite in reality.

Su Yan had initially intended to confide in her about his predicament, but to his surprise, upon seeing him, she gasped, “Well, that’s quite the bombshell!”

Su Yan: “?”

“Little Yanyan, found yourself a partner?” she asked playfully, settling comfortably beside him, a teasing glint in her eyes.

If even Xie Qingyuan voiced such a sentiment, then the situation was undeniably grave.

Xie Qingyuan continued to speak, gradually drawing nearer, until she boldly reached out and tugged at his collar, then swiftly pulled out her phone and snapped a picture with a soft ‘click.’

Su Yan’s parents had long since grown accustomed to the girl’s unrestrained behavior.

For some inexplicable reason, the snake bone bracelet on Su Yan’s wrist felt exceptionally cold the moment Xie Qingyuan touched him, as if a living serpent were truly coiled there.

Hissing, its tongue flicking.

Xie Qingyuan extended her phone to him, displaying the photo, and then subtly nudged her chin towards it. “Quite the public display, wouldn’t you say?”

Su Yan nearly fainted upon seeing the photograph. His pale collarbone, aside from the familiar small red mole, was utterly covered in hickeys—no less than a dozen of them, scattered liberally.

Su Yan: “…”

He was utterly, completely, irrevocably doomed.

His father, Su Ming, would absolutely never countenance such a thing. No wonder he had asked earlier, “Are you attempting to provoke me?”

****

In the end, Su Yan resignedly admitted to the affair, hanging his head like a chastised quail.

The family meeting was a solemn affair, made even more so by Xie Qingyuan’s presence. Each family member, in turn, began to lecture him on the intricacies of s*x education.

“Before marriage, you must guard yourself and be responsible for your girlfriend.”

“No matter how strong your feelings, you must wait until your wedding night.”

“After all we’ve said, do you understand?” Their words, a relentless barrage, threatened to drown Su Yan in a tide of exasperation.

Su Yan could only grumble inwardly, *’Wedding night’—such an antiquated term!* He certainly agreed with their sentiments, but he harbored none of their worries.

Finally granted a reprieve, he slunk back to his room, where he stood before the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection.

His name in the real world was the same, and even the appearance of the original book’s Su Yan, once grown, matched his own from his previous life.

He had largely forgotten the original novel’s plot, remembering only how he had been bullied and humiliated by the protagonist.

The person in the mirror possessed strikingly beautiful, youthful features. His gaze drifted lower, revealing the numerous hickeys, large and small, adorning his collarbone.

When had he gotten them?

Could it have been last night? Had he slept so soundly? This person, indeed, was incredibly dangerous.

Su Yan slowly reached out, brushing his fingers over his collarbone, then tried vigorously to scrub them away. When all else failed, he had no choice but to borrow some concealer from Xie Qingyuan.

Xie Qingyuan, engrossed in her game, had casually tossed him a branded concealer stick. While its effectiveness was undoubtedly high, he had no idea how to apply it.

His clumsy application resulted in a messy patch that looked more like an attempt to hide the obvious rather than genuinely concealing it.

He failed to notice that as he raised his hand, the glass eye of the snake’s head on his snake bone bracelet gleamed with a sharp, piercing light.

****

That afternoon, he headed to school. New students were typically quite busy with various activities.

However, participation depended on one’s willingness; surely no one would be dragged there against their will?

Su Yan was clearly among those willing participants, thus requiring him to arrive at school early for rehearsals. He had chosen to perform in a play.

He had been enthusiastically pulled into it by other classmates without thoroughly reading the script, and being quite busy at the time, he had casually remarked, “Just give me a polite, minor role.”

Having said that, he had rushed off.

The play they were rehearsing was for the Freshmen Welcome Gala, demanding utmost patience. It was widely known that every action at prestigious universities was meticulously recorded.

Yet, as Su Yan stood backstage, picking up the script, his pupils trembled, and his usually docile face instantly lost its composure.

His voice, tinged with shock, exclaimed, “I’m playing Sleeping Beauty?!

“Are you kidding me?”

The others patted his shoulder, urging him to calm down. “You’re the prettiest one here.”

Su Yan’s brow twitched. He lifted his eyelids, taking a quick glance around, seeing only burly men whose arms looked strong enough to fell a tree.

“Fine,” Su Yan gritted out, realizing with a bitter twist that he truly was the “prettiest.”

“Then, who’s playing the Prince?” Su Yan desperately wished he didn’t have to ask this question.

“You’ll be very happy, you’ll see in a bit.” Cheng Ye picked up his script, studying it intently, the light in his eyes seemingly genuine.

It was as if a monumental surprise truly awaited him.

Su Yan slapped the Sleeping Beauty script, bearing his name, onto the table and slumped into a chair. “Why are we, a bunch of grown men, performing a play like ‘Sleeping Beauty’?”

“Are we supposed to be competing in a beauty pageant up there? To see who’s more effeminate?” Su Yan’s left eyelid twitched several times, a sense of foreboding washing over him.

“No, that’s not it. This play isn’t mainly about beauty; it focuses on fairy tale romance. Haven’t you seen it before?” another person interjected, tilting their head in confusion.

Su Yan: “…” *Did they think he was an idiot?*

“That final kiss—the ultimate romance.”

*There it is*, Su Yan thought, asking aloud, “Us?”

Cheng Ye pushed his glasses up his nose. “A real kiss.”

“That’s how we’ll get the entire audience’s atmosphere hyped up and boiling.”

Su Yan: “…” *I might just boil over too, with anger.*

“My apologies, I’m late.” A familiar, smiling voice drifted in.

It was Lu Lin.

He was playing the Prince.

Su Yan truly felt as if he might collapse on the spot.